


The Kiss Doesn't Go Unfinished

by moststeph



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moststeph/pseuds/moststeph





	The Kiss Doesn't Go Unfinished

“No. You should keep it,” he said, taking her hand. He slid the ring back onto her finger. He looked her in the eye and continued, “As souvenir. That way I can keep track of you.” He smiled, small and sweet.

Gaby allowed herself a tiny smile at his joke. She stepped a little closer and watched his eyes lower to her lips. This wasn’t their first time like this - that first night, the tracker. Gaby could feel the tension between them sharpen, feel that familiar electricity crackling under her skin. Illya was closer and closer, and then, just as she closed her eyes, their lips met. 

If the electricity had been something before, it was nothing compared to finally kissing him - she took a sharp breath, and Illya hummed in response, low and hungry. One of his hands found its way to her neck, warm and solid, and his other went to her waist, gently pulling her against him. Gaby wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes so he wouldn’t have to bend as far to meet her. As she did she slid her tongue between his lips, eliciting a small moan from him. His grip on the back of her neck tightened as he deepened the kiss, holding her to him like he was afraid it was a dream, like she’d slip away. It felt like a dream in a way, that they finally had a moment where they weren’t lying to each other or fighting for their lives and could at last have this. 

Illya drew back after a minute, kissing her one last time lightly on the lips. Gaby opened her eyes and found him gazing reverently at her. It was hard to know what to do with the devotion she saw in his eyes, how to handle it. She dropped her gaze and looked at the floor, but leaned forward to press her forehead against his chest. Illya rubbed small circles against her neck, reassuring. Gaby hummed happily, enjoying the pressure. He was so solid, Gaby thought as she slid her hands down from his neck to his chest. Solid, resolute, reliable. Illya dropped a kiss on top of her head and she smiled, unbidden, into his sweater. She looked up at him and he smiled in return.

“Well,” Gaby finally said. “About time we did that.”

Illya chuckled quietly. “Yes,” he agreed. “I don't think I could have waited much longer.” 

Gaby smiled as Illya brought his hand from her neck to her cheek, cradling her face like she was the most precious thing in the world. It made her think of the way he'd held her after the jeep crashed, everything frantic and incoherent until he appeared and wrapped her in his arms. He always held her like she was fragile, made of glass. She was surprised to find she liked it. She'd spent a lot of effort and time making herself as unbreakable as possible, and it was tiring.

“It's okay,” he'd told her on that muddy hill, and she'd believed him. Once he was there, it was. He’d barely left her side since the crash: on the ship, when they were back in Rome, in their hotel room. It was a strange feeling, that companionship and support. She wasn't used to it, having been on her own for so long, always having to keep her guard up because no one else was looking out for her. Her emotions must have shown on her face, because Illya immediately asked, “What is wrong?” 

“I was just thinking about yesterday,” Gaby said reluctantly. “Alexander.” 

Illya's face darkened and his hand on her waist shook. “I should have made him suffer,” he muttered, his accent thick in his anger. Gaby reached for his face, soothing him. His eyes went soft as soon as he felt her touch. 

“He's gone,” she said. “And I'm okay.” 

Illya gave her a small smile and turned to kiss her palm. The intimacy of the action made Gaby's stomach flip. She didn't know what had gotten into her these past few days. Illya had gone from a prickly (somewhat terrifying, though she'd never admit it to him) opponent to someone rapidly crumbling the walls she'd spent years building. 

And it wasn't as if he was an open book either - years of shoving his feelings and psychosis down, kept just on the edge of sanity by his handlers at the KGB. Neither one of them trusted easily. They didn’t have any reason to. Yet here they were. It scared her. But it made her hopeful too. 

“I have to meet Waverly,” she said regretfully, returning to reality. Illya looked disappointed, but released her from his embrace. She felt adrift without his arms around her. Illya sensed her hesitation and took her hand. 

“I'll be close by,” he promised her once more. And somehow, Gaby knew he always would be.


End file.
